No Good
by high.fiving.jesus
Summary: A slice of life in his eyes as he holds the internal battles and joys of eternity.
1. Chapter 1

_**-**__**No Good**__**-**_

**Written By: High Fiving Jesus**

**Typed: Tuesday, August 17, 2010-Wednesday, August 18, 2010**

**~:*:~**

I grinded my teeth and hammered on the scrap metal. Sparks ruptured and showered me, bouncing on the welder's mask I wore. A constant, sharp _clank_ resounded through the forges as I worked, keeping rhythm with the heavy metal music. The electric guitar solo began as I muttered to myself.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and turned from the anvil in front of me. My nerves started rattling around inside of me.

A gorgeous woman hid away in the corner reapplying bright red lipstick. I sneered and turned away, picking up a chisel. I examined it and tossed it in the fireplace beside me. I needed a new one anyway.

I glanced over my shoulder at her as she put the tube back in her bag and looked at me distastefully. It seemed she thought that actually affected me. It didn't.

I reached across the table and grabbed the first heavy object I could find. I drew the sledge hammer back, adjusted my tongs and slammed it down with full force. A large dent formed in the blade.

"Gah!" I yelled and threw the pathetic sword across the room. It slammed into the wall and melted into the rock, adding a very detailed outline of what could've been crafty work. Almost a dozen similar designs were indented deeply in the molten rocks and gravel of the cavern.

"Hephaestus," She grinned, trying to calm my rage. "Could you have the sword finished by midnight? I'm going to meet up with a friend later and…" she paused and materialized closer to me, towering over my crumpled form, "…well, it's entirely important."

She had reminded me of this at least five of the times out of eight that she had spoken to me all day. She batted her lashes, cooed, and primped her hair because it was all she knew how to do. I grumbled and limped to a heap of scrap metal. I rummaged and tossed the trash to the side until a suitable piece of Celestial Bronze was in my hand.

"Remind me," I requested, "why I'm doing this again."

She smiled, almost like she was growing impatient from explaining the same thing time and time again to a child. "I told you. It's for the hero of the Great Prophecy."

"Seaweed's kid?" I growled. "He already has that pen. _Anaklusmos_."

"No," she groaned, running a hand threw her hair and tossing it over to the other side of her head so that it fell over one shoulder. "The _next_ prophecy, you idiot."

I limped back to the fireplace and held the metal over the green blaze. The Greek fire wrapped around the metal, melting it to a weak state in the hold of my tongs. I let the metal rest in the fire for a while.

"_The next prophecy, you idiot,_" I muttered, letting my voice go shrill on the emphasized word. I looked over at my wife for a moment and rolled my eyes. _She's a terrible spouse, _I thought bitterly. Aphrodite stared at me with her head slanted. She was always doing that, trying to figure me out. But honestly, she was no Athena. "Will you please excuse yourself from _my_ forges?"

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes and revealed her true form. A powerful, pompous woman—who was absolutely beautiful—with an iridescent, gentle glow brighter than the sun. I wasn't bothered to watch her any further as she disappeared on a beam of light, probably heading to Olympus or wherever Ares was.

My face darkened at the thought of his very name. That bloody pig. The only real reason I respected or helped that Percy kid was because he hates Ares just as I do.

I grabbed the metal from the fire with my bare hands and dropped it on the anvil. I wielded my sledge hammer and started drawing out the sword. It began to lengthen as I pounded on it, and it seemed to relax me.

I grabbed the metal and set it down on a cleared table, not allowing myself to work the form too hard. I was just going to leave it there to cool.

I slumped down on the floor, knowing the hardship of standing again, and pulled my knife from the holster on my thigh. I dug the tip of the blade into the smooth rock and pulled back, drawing a straight line. The edges were so dull. What kind of craftsmanship was that? A dull blade? That was the same as an ugly goddess. Unheard of in my forges.

I thought of the attempt to get up, but why bother? When I finished with my knife, then I would finish Aphrodite's gift to that bratty hero of the future. What was the reward for me? She continues to cheat on me with that… animal? Feh. I was better off with the mortals. Those women had souls and sometimes cared.

I was used. I was finally going to get them. I knew of one person that would help me finally set them up.

But would my pride allow that?

**Um, this was supposed to be a one shot but… my hands typed when my eyes weren't looking, so it's been extended and changed. Fun.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**-**__**No Good**__**-**_

**Written by: High Fiving Jesus**

**Typed: Friday, August 20, 2010**

**~:*:~**

My humility wasn't going that far. I stood before Athena with my fists clenched and my whole body shaking with rage and embarrassment. On my knees? I would never go on my knees in private to pick something up just to save myself the embarrassment of someone entering my chambers while I try to stand and fail, yet alone get on my knees to beg for assistance. And in front of a majority of the Council? Forget it.

I looked around me and my eyes lowered regretfully. I found one knee buckle and hit the floor. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I wasn't going to allow it. Aphrodite wasn't worth the shame.

I sneakily knocked my knife down by Athena's feet and felt my face cooling. My rage subsided and I knelt down. Athena suddenly got a smug look on her face and seemed to sit a little higher in her throne. I reached out and grabbed my weapon.

"Dropped my knife," I muttered to her and moved to a kneeling position, where I somehow managed to force myself to my feet. She glowered at me, completely shocked by my actions.

I gave her a quick, sarcastic smirk and returned to my throne with my beard sparking. It was clear I couldn't get Athena's help with this—not without looking like an idiot, and I was leaving that up to the half-bloods. I was going to have to search for a higher help. Much higher.

As Athena stormed out of the throne room, I couldn't help but watch her. She glared at the door before her and threw them open at once, taking Olympus by rage. Hordes of people moved from the streets as she stalked down them, heading who-knows-where.

It was amusing to say the least.

As time passed on, my thoughts were elsewhere. I appeared, to the others, absent. I might've had a vacant look in my eyes but it was just determination. That _was_ the look of determination— becoming lost in oneself to find something they need or direly want. And it didn't really bother me that I was earning odd expressions from the onlookers.

How could I ever find her? Zeus had swallowed her for self-protection, similar to how Kronos had swallowed Poseidon, Demeter, Hades and the others. Athena was the only goddess of wisdom left. Her mother was sitting down in the pit of Zeus, probably thinking over her stupidity.

I glowered at the head of the Council.

He had convinced Kronos to… dispel the gods and goddess with some putrid smelling drink; I could convince Zeus to release Métis.

But was it worth it?

…Yes. It was.

I stood from my throne and followed Athena's example by leaving the Council and heading towards the gateway. The walk was long and agonizing and I only made it halfway before I decided _To Hades with it_ and flashed myself out and down to the mortals' world.

**It was shorter than the last one, but that's probably how the chapters will go. They might be updated faster—even though school's starting for me—but they will probably be short like this. Sorry if that bothers you or if the chapter seemed to speed up. I just wanted to get this out quickly.**


	3. Chapter 3

**-**_**No Good**_**-**

**Written by: High Fiving Jesus**

**Typed: Friday, September 3, 2010**

**~:*:~**

I gripped the thin piece of scrap to the best of my ability and stirred slowly. The fork grinded and cut through the mixture and I started to believe this would work. Everything appeared to go smoothly until the utensil crumpled under the pressure from my hand and landed in pieces on the ground. I glared venomously and hollered. "Blasted human toys! They know nothing of good structure!" I cursed and spat on the broken object.

I submitted to just accepting the mixture as it was and carried it with me to the table. A cowhide-cloth sack slumped on the silver tainted metal with a thin string wrapping around the top of the open bag. I gently set the concoction next to the bag. While trying to hold the bag up, I realized I would need an extra set of hands.

A low whistle escaped my lips and a small… 'toy' of mine crawled up the leg of the table. It was a fine-crafted creature, with numerous special features that I named 'Hephaesti-Games'. Its one robotic eye blinked up at me. With the body of a spider friend that had been crushed, it resembled my appearance. It was a crippled automaton with a lowly attitude, but clever tricks up its sleeves.

One of its legs dragged behind it as it inched towards the bag. It paused, inspected the case, and began to shutter. Any normal god or goddess would've crushed the little guy for malfunction, but I knew better. I was always better at seeing what's underneath the skin. He froze and his back opened to reveal a compartment. To tiny hands about a centimeter big each lifted from the storage and grabbed the bag from my hand.

I nodded my head with a gruff grin and poured the saucy treat into the bag. Métis would be mine.

Genuinely please with him, I sent him off with a new feature. Music gently drummed from his one good ear and his back leg twitched with joy.

I tied the bag tightly and hung it from my belt of tools, making sure it wouldn't drip or come loose and ruin my plan. When I was sure it was sturdy and hooked, I flashed back to Olympus.

It was a common misconception that we just disappeared through time and appeared back in the continuum in the place we wished to be. I'm proud to say that we don't manipulate common principles and space. It's traveling on wind at speeds that undeniably used to make me nauseous.

I stepped down onto the marble floor of the throne room. Twelve empty thrones were resting in the U-shape. I grinned and let my hand linger over the bag.

I hobbled up to the middle throne casually and examined it. Zeus hadn't rigged the chair—idiot—but I knew that he could sense the presence resting on it. I yanked the bag from my belt and popped my knee out for the ability to kneel. I placed the sack on the floor in front of the throne slowly and pulled a piece of parchment from a container on my belt.

I normally used it for designs, but this was important enough to waste. I pulled out a ball point pen—a regular one, not that contraption that extended—and leaned over to write on it. I carefully wrote on the paper, trying not to rip it if I got frustrated.

_To the King of the gods._

I thought that flattery would definitely help me.

_Great Ruler of the Skies. Powerful being._

_No one is more deserving._

I scoffed at the lie and could think of at least one person who would be better than him. I was about to shove the paper under the sack when the throne room doors creaked open.

Hestia caught my eye and tilted her head. "What's going on?"

"I—I dropped my… pen," I grumbled. Old bitterness left a comforting taste on my tongue.

Hestia walked over to me steadily and for a moment, I thought she would catch on and reveal me to Zeus. My face started burning but she simply bent over, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, and picked up my pen from the floor.

She held it out to me and smiled weakly.

I hesitantly took it and nodded my head in appreciation. This goddess, who I knew was no moron, hadn't even noticed. She simply helped me, stood, and slowly paced up to the cow in the water bubble. I hated that thing. We should've killed it when we had the chance.

Hestia reached up a hand and ran her fingers along the outside of the cage. The beast mooed gleefully and caused her to smile.

She was almost seriously beautiful.

I shook my head and forced myself to stand up. I began to struggle to the door, hoping she wouldn't get a clue as to my plan. I was at the door and relief was flushing over me when a small voice came from behind me.

Hestia stood by the bubble and looked sadly at it. "Think over what you are about to do."

**Okay, I just love Hestia. Next chapter you'll probably see the daily duties of a god—properly—or I might just forget and write something dumb. We'll see.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm not positive what I was going to write, so just go with this for a little until the story kicks into full swing.**

I rolled my eyes, just hoping they would get to the good part of their report. Three small, humanoid automatons blinked up at me. Miniature wings tucked into their hunched backs and they pulled their arms close to their chests.

"He almost died, sir," the one on the left told me. Hectus was the youngest of the three, for the simple fact that I had built him last. He, although the most shy of the group, always managed to give the daily report. "An engine running on water is a relatively old concept, but the-they can't get it right."

"Blast, ol' kelp for brains," I growled. Without his participation, though it may seem irrelevant, was vital to the completion of something so simple. I had built a completed prototype eons ago, but I didn't care much for the humans. It was simply my duty to help them along on occasion. They had to work for success in engineering. My domain could stretch farther than the forges.

I sighed. "Very well, sneak into the lab. Make some adjustments. Report back tomorrow."

Heracles and Vestus stretched the folds of bronze on their backs into magnificent wings, and flapped them. Hectus waited patiently.

"Another thing, milord," he added. "Aphrodite's gift?"

I nodded grudgingly. It was a magnificent craft I must honestly say, but the fact that it was for her and the hero just lowered my spirits tremendously.

"It's been stolen."

The whole of my face twisted with rage. Someone—a person or thing lacking intelligence, clearly—had broken into my forges. They had taken my trinket. Someone was going to die tonight.

My temper flared and my beard sparked. "Find them! I don't care how long it takes, I don't care who does it—get a demigod, do it yourself—_I—don't—care._ Bring it back to me!"

I dissipated and soared on the waves of light. I wasn't sure where I was headed, or even if I cared, but I was going somewhere. That sword was magnificent. My best work, I was sure.

A double-grip, Celestial Bronze with an extensive reach, coated in mortal steel. The butt of the sword was curved into an Omega with snake fangs extending, for times of desperation. The wielder could kill with the venom injection. The word that translated to strength was inscribed on the side of the blade. I had spoken with Apollo about the Great Prophecy and it seemed to me that it would be a son of Zeus.

Gods, he just couldn't keep it in his pants.

**Really short chapter—shorter than most. I apologize, but I'm so excited that I can't sit still. I've read a preview.**

**Do you know what tomorrow is? The release date for The Heroes of Olympus! So I did give you a spoiler in this chapter.**

**If you want another one, here it is:**

**Percy's the missing hero and Annabeth's P.. **


	5. Chapter 5

**To be honest, I don't know where this story's going—it was supposed to be a one-shot—but I might have a plan. If not, feel free to give suggestions.**

I glared at the spot below me. The ground was ugly. It was ugly and dirty and trampled on so often—I loved it. Staring at the ground was like looking in the mirror, only it made me feel good about myself. Majority of the mortals were fighting for the ground. It was an odd thought, but it was the truth. They recycled, they cleaned beaches, and they were working vigorously in my department to make efficient tools that would help save the world they lived in.

Some still littered freely and called Global Warming a farce—no matter the fact that it's a natural cycle and nothing to worry too much about—they needed to realize that the actions were offensive and harmful.

What made me stop to stare at the ground? I had flashed in to Central Park, scared a horde of Asian tourists, and found a lovely patch of dirt where the grass refused to grow. It fascinated me how, even though the area was part of the same general location, like a family, it looked different. It was treated different—people didn't stop to admire it. Some patches had flowers, some was just ordinary grass, and others were simple places of lowly dirt. I felt like that dirt.

And the robbery—someone had stuck a sign deep inside which advertised the uprooting of the lovely area for development. Rotten thieves.

I admired my patch of dirt like a finely constructed automaton, not fully processing the flurry of pink behind me. A wave of perfume choked me and I instantly felt the need to break something.

Aphrodite's heel padded down on the grass beneath her, like the mother rabbit from the deer movie. His best friend was a bunny and a skunk? Yeah, that one.

"You lost it?" she asked harshly, as if it were my fault. Her tone was cold and disbelieving, accusing. I continued to stare at my dirt. "That was to be my gift to my boyfriend."

"I thought it was going to the demigod," I said, turning to look over my shoulder, brows furrowed knowingly.

"Yes," she amended. "That's what I meant—my brother."

"You said boyfriend," I argued. "Please tell me I did _not _forge a sword worthy of Kronos for that wimp Ares."

My wife shrugged her shoulders indifferently but she supplied the answer I supposed I wanted to hear. "No, I meant brother. I was distracted."

"By your boyfriend."

"_No_," she sneered, attitude coating her voice. She reminded me instantly of a teenage girl, back-sassing their mother with sarcasm. I feigned acceptance at the answer and turned my attention back to my dirt. I noticed dirt starting to spew up, specks at a time, a whole suddenly being drilled through the ground. I stepped back, allowing space for whatever the creature was. Aphrodite clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, as she so naturally did.

Hectus, my youngest reporter, poked his head out of the whole and shoved his arms through with him. He rubbed the dirt from his eyes and blinked at my consort with similar disgust as me.

"Ew, what is that thing?" Aphrodite whined, brushing her hair aside.

"Status report on the sword," I said to Hectus, ignoring Aphrodite who suddenly appeared excited. Everything was about her; it was her own little world we were living in and perfume replaced oxygen.

"We've set our best automatons on search-and-rescue mode and the demigods Travis and Connor Stoll have the honor of finding your weapon," Hectus supplied.

"Children of…" I trailed off with a questioning tone. This was the point where my creation got nervous.

"Hermes."

"Oh," I nodded, honestly pissed. I hid my anger and tried to refrain from biting him. "So, let me get this straight. You set two children of the god of thieves off to investigate a robbery?"

He sheepishly nodded and started to wobble around in the dirt. I smacked my lips and crossed my arms, deciding to refrain from breaking him. He had informed me; that was enough. It's enough. Stay calm; calm is good… "_WHAT?"_

Yeah, calm is good.

**Okay, extremely short. Sorry again. **

**I don't know how many of you loved the movie, but I think you all should know that Logan Lerman is already signed to TWO more Percy Jackson movies AND would like to star in all five of them. You know what that means? More delicious Logan and more PJO movie!**


	6. Chapter 6

**No ideas, guys. Time to start suggesting, haha.**

Hectus had left in a hurry, plunging into the ground with terrified ferocity. I proceeded to turn on Aphrodite, blaming her for my misfortune. If she had not asked for the stupid sword, it would have remained just a thought, a mere idea and I would have moved onto greater tasks, such as the curse placed on my cabin. It was all too real to be ignored for something so… petty.

She sniffed, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and dispersed in pink smog that left me gagging, perfume suffocating the nature around us.

I yelled in frustration and slammed my fist into the nearest tree, the trunk snapping and slowly meeting the ground, leaves bristling and wood splintering. The roots had been exposed, mangled and worn. I quietly stared at it, my face contorted—more so than before—with silent fury. I realized that I had just killed a poor nature spirit, but I couldn't bring myself to care enough to try to fix it.

I pulled a Bluetooth headset from one of my pockets and nearly crushed it, slamming it into my ear. "Heracles."

The dial tone buzzed in my ear, only doubling my rage. I switched off the set and rebooted it; the more I looked upon it, the more my anger grew, causing me to fumble and mess up the simplest of steps. I turned it on and pressed it back into my ear, beginning to pace, my hands on my hips. I breathed heavily through my nose. "Vestus."

A moment of ringing and he answered, the sound of power saws cutting through metal. The sound died down and a cranking noise, tightening a bolt. "Sir?" Vestus grunted into the built in head set and set something down. I could hear him working diligently, the sound of machinery slowly calming me.

"Vestus," I tried, not sure what I had called him for. My mind had always been like a machine, slowing after using excessive amounts of energy and needing to cool off before proper use. I sighed, my shoulders slumping, and began speaking any order I could to keep the automatons and myself busy. "Vestus, ready the car. We're going hunting."

"Hunting, sir?" He stopped working altogether.

"Finding this thief and giving him a little talking to," I acknowledged, making quick to leave Central Park before anyone noticed the demolished tree lying in the grass. I directed myself towards my forges. "T minus 30 seconds." I ended the connection and found myself just outside of the forges. A giant rock formation just outside of New York, I had decided, would be hollowed out and used for my work.

It was simple and discreet. The lock was placed in the center of the door, which was not visible to the naked eye, less it be mine. I placed my hand upon the Eta sign and pressed it down, the rock crumbling and falling away to reveal a scanner, which presumably fulfilled its purpose. A hunk of the formation slipped into the ground and I stepped inside the heated stair case. I made my decent quickly, trying to not fumble and striped myself of my over shirt, leaving me in my heavy, fire-proof pants with suspenders and my white and grimy undershirt.

Below, chains hung from the ceiling of the cave replica, an oversized fireplace cackling on the far wall. Sand and red clay littered the floor, work tables shoved into close proximity of the uneven walls. They were cluttered with tools and new inventions, toys and trinkets that I enjoyed admiring, unfinished automatons.

I crossed the room, making way for the wall that held the fireplace. My eye caught a sign similar to the one on the entrance and I pressed my hand, the door opening just as before. I entered the garage to find Vestus, running a wet, dirty rag across the exterior of my car.

The garage was more high-tech and up-to-date. The walls were plated with Titanium Alloy and everything was electronic, including work tables, able to fold into the ground and what not. A wall was set with tools, each in its place, a label beneath it and what it was used for. All fifteen of my cars were lined across the room on a raised platform, polished and freshly coated.

Vestus wrung the rag out in his hands and turned to me, holding out the keys to the 2011 Audi R8. This car was my baby, just like every man had to have. It had a V8 engine, 19" ten-spoke wheels and full LED headlights. Leather seats had been run over thoroughly with lemon scented Pledge and a Bang&Olufsen sound system—twelve speakers with four-hundred-sixty-five digitally amplified watts and surround sound and microphone-based noise compensation, ensuring perfect sound depending on road conditions and speed. My personal favorite—the HomeLink and Bluetooth built in. A parking system, MMI navigation, heated exterior mirrors

I nodded for him to get in—which seemed to raise his levels of enthusiasm tremendously—and started the engine, a purr running through the garage. I put the car in drive as he reached up on the dashboard and pushed the button to the garage door. It folded up into the ceiling and I revved the engine, sinking into the feeling of the car, and sped off. We rolled through the tunnel that led up to the surface of the earth, a pocket opening above us, where we picked up speed leading onto the highway.

"Sir," Vestus said. "We're driving?"

I grunted and gave a short nod. "Air conditions aren't too good later today. Better to stay grounded."

He peeked behind him and scratched his metal head curiously. "Sir, you're going over the speed limit."

I grumbled and sent him an annoyed look; I didn't care about the limits of the road; I didn't care if we were pulled over. Any smart cop would have just let it slide, because I was ultimately not in the mood to be toyed with. I never was, to be honest. He just sent another glance out the window to another car and sat back in his seat.

"Where are we going first?"

"Talking to Hermes."

"But you hate Hermes," he strained, lost in utter confusion as I took a sharp left, cutting through the neighboring lane of traffic.

"No," I grumbled, running a hand through my messy hair. "I love Hermes."

I wrung my hands over the wheel furiously.

I was in desperate need of some coffee.

**Ahh, not my best, I'm afraid. It's all I can give since my mind is fried. Happy New Year, you guys.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: To all my dear, sweet, lovingly faithful reviewers,**

**This story, effective immediately, unless decided otherwise, will be placed on HIATUS. I realize that this is against the rules, but I felt I owed you all an explanation and I hope you don't report, for this chapter will be deleted upon the continuation.**

**You may ask why I am suddenly holding off. If you would like to know, I'm writing what will probably escalade into a trilogy, but for now is a story that is like venting and revenge. **

**I know—wow, high fiving Jesus, that's really immature. When you read this story, it may help you understand, it may not.**

**My muse: my lying, but sweet, boyfriend. Humph, lying and sweet don't belong in the same sentence… Let's try this. My boyfriend's really sweet to me. However, he's a compulsive liar about what I consider to be important. Did I mention he broke a promise?**

**I bet you don't care, I wouldn't. But it's a heads up for a story that is consuming all of my thoughts. I would feel terrible writing a chapter that doesn't blend well with what's happened so far, and so I'm going to get this out of my system.**

**Thank you for your consideration and cooperation.**

**Seriously, **_**please**_** don't report because this message is only temporary.**

**My story: **_**Exposure**_**.**

**Rating: T**

**Characters: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase**

**World: Books, AU (Alternate Universe)**

**Thanks again!**


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